along the left bank of the stream. Passing over some grassy flats we come to several clumps of kowhai or goai trees, which in early spring bear quantities of large yellow flowers, to sip the honey from which the tuis gather round from far and near, and make the air melodious with their music. The track we are following, which is nothing more than a dray track used for bringing firewood to the farms situated lower down the stream, now crosses the stream once or twice; but as the water is shallow, there is no difficulty in doing this. As we go on our way, the mountains on either hand become higher. On the left rises Chalky Hill, and on the right we see the back of Mount Flagstaff, over the shoulder of which we have to climb to reach town. After crossing the stream for the fourth time, the road branches. We take the right hand branch, and leaving the Silverstream behind us we pass up a pretty wooded gully, down which flows a small branch of the main stream. The left hand side of the gully is covered with dense bush, in which birds of various species disport themselves. About half a mile further on the road again branches, and this time we take the left hand branch, and begin to ascend. A little way up we again cross the reservoir water-race, and after a stiff pull up the hill we arrive at the highest point, whence we descend, in a short time arriving at the main road, close to Mr. Hume's asylum; thence we return to town as we came. For anyone who enjoys a good long walk, there is no more pleasurable excursion in the neighbourhood of Dunedin, for in the romantic valley of the Silverstream we find a fair wilderness where mountain, wood and stream combine to form picture after picture to delight the eye.
XIV.—THE HARBOUR.
Call it what you will—a river, harbour, a bay, an estuary, a firth, or by whatever name it may be known, the fact remains that up or down that basin of water there are gorgeous views to be obtained. A sheet of water, at first apparently circumscribed, but as we move on some new prospect opens up which tells the end is not yet. Turning that point, rounding this sandbank, between these islands, where it were hard to tell where the opening lies, the progress of the boat discloses bays and harbours,
